


Nearly

by sunalso



Series: Moth to Flame [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Episode: s05e01 Buffy vs Dracula, F/M, Frottage, Season/Series 05, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 03:51:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15064514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: S5 AU. Post episode 5x01. Buffy’s been left hot and bothered after vanquishing Dracula and has a proposal for Spike. He’d be crazy to accept, but Buffy in a short skirt can be very persuasive.Beta'd by Gort.





	Nearly

Spike thought she was joking.  That any minute Buffy would start giggling and guffaw about how she’d been kidding this whole time and oh my god, how could he believe she was doing anything but pulling his leg?

He was sitting on top of one of the sarcophagi in his crypt, while a nervous-looking Buffy shuffled her feet and pulled at the hem of her rather shorter than normal skirt.

Had she worn the bleeding thing for his benefit? Her v-neck shirt showed off rather a lot of cleavage, come to think of it. Was she, very clumsily, trying to seduce him?

Damn, Drac really had done a number on her.

Spike hadn’t quite believed her tale— despite the fact that she was sporting a fresh bite mark on her neck— about Drac thralling her and whisking her off to his castle to force blood down her throat. Berk had tried to make Buffy one of his brides. It sounded like she’d managed to teach the lout a lesson about messing with the Slayer, but now the chit was dealing with the aftermath.

Dracula had revved her engine, and she was hot to trot and needed a vamp to get her off to satisfy the cravings he’d given her. Someone with a heartbeat just wouldn’t do. Not that Spike, the few times he’d ever thought about her sex life with Riley, imagined the boy could do much to gratify the Slayer at the best of times.

“So, let’s see if I got this right,” he said, and Buffy’s intense gaze fixed on this face. “You want to squirm against me until you come, pretty much whenever you need to, clothes stay on, hands don’t wander too much, and no kissing?”

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Along with you telling no one. I won’t dust you if you do, but you would wish I had.”

“I got it. As if I’m going to run around and brag about dry humping the Slayer.” He patted his duster pocket, looking for his smokes. “The question I have, pet, is what do I get out of this?”

Buffy looked perplexed. “Um, well, you could get off too.”

“So generous.” He pulled his pack of cigs out. Now where was his lighter? “But it’s not like I have any trouble finding a bit of rough and tumble if I want it. And that doesn’t come with any sodding rules and usually involves less clothing.” He slapped the end of the cigarette box against his palm, and Buffy’s eyes followed the movement as she bit her lip and two spots of pink appeared on her cheeks.

Well, wasn’t that neat?

“Um…” Buffy pulled a stake from the small of her back and tossed it away. “Free pass if you ever do anything stupid. And um, I don’t know.” Her shoulders slumped. “Money would just make things gross and…I’m sorry, this was a dumb idea.”

She turned and stiffly walked towards the door.

For two steps, Spike was pleased to let her and her daft proposal walk away.

Then something odd twisted in his chest and he was dropping his smokes on the sarcophagus and bolting across the crypt to grab Buffy’s shoulder and spin her around.

“Let’s not be hasty,” he said. The Slayer would be dependent on him, wouldn’t she? She’d have a need, an itch, and he’d be the only one who could scratch it.

Buffy was frowning and not quite looking at him.

A Slayer who was jonesing for him. It was too sweet a deal to pass up. And she was right, he wouldn’t mind getting his rocks off with her, even if it was just in his pants.

“Look, Slayer. I agree. You have yourself a deal.”

She tilted her head and studied him for long seconds. Too long. He started fidgeting and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Okay,” she finally said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Right. Good. We got that settled. When do you think you’ll want to come…uh, stop, by?” He’d need to tidy up his bedroom, steal some new sheets for the bed and the like.

Buffy’s fists clenched, then loosed. She made a noise a lot like a whine and Spike found himself slammed back first into the door of his Crypt with the Slayer wiggling wildly against him as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck.

He gasped, unsure what to do, but then his body woke up. It was like a nuclear bomb of desperate lust exploded inside him.

Holy bleeding fuck.

His fingers dug into her back and he was certain all the blood in his body was heading south. Buffy was making the most delightful little mewling noises as she rubbed herself against his hip.

Spike’s legs shook as another tidal wave of desire crashed into him. He bent and grabbed her knee and hoisted her leg around his waist as she jerkily writhed against him. Her skirt had ridden up and he could scent her arousal. The girl was soaking wet.

Christ.

His hands went to her hips as he did his best to corral her movements and get her situated so she was grinding against his prick. To his surprise, she let him guide her, and as the moist heat of her cunt began rhythmically pressing against his jean-covered cock, he cursed. She was fucking driving him to distraction.

Moaning, his hips thrust up against her as his head thumped against the door. Buffy was grunting, her face still smushed against his neck and her hands grasping his shoulders.

It felt impossibly good. He felt alive under her, as if any second his heart would start beating again.

The whole thing was wrong. So very wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to make her stop. Couldn’t even stop himself.

For long minutes there was nothing but the sounds of them wildly humping against the other. Spike ran his hands up and down her back and gabbed at her hips. Christ, he was going to have to renegotiate. He should at least be allowed to palm her ass.

The roll of her pelvis became uncoordinated and with a loud keen, she came.

Bloody hell.

Her mouth was open, and she was sucking on the sensitive skin of his neck as her body twitched its way through orgasm.

Spike hugged her tight against him to keep her upright, but she didn’t stop moving.

“Again, Spike, please. More. Please, Spike.” Her breath tickled.

For a moment he was disorientated as the memory of telling Buffy she wasn’t the begging kind danced around the edges of his mind. Obviously, he’d been wrong. It was certainly one of the better times he’d been wrong about something.

“Shh, Spike’s got you,” he whispered to her.

Buffy flew apart again less than a minute later. “Spike,” she chanted as she continued to grind her soaking wet cunt along his cock. “Spike, Spike, SpikeSpikeSpike—” A third peak caught her, and she whimpered through it, lovely little sounds he would never be able to forget.

Spike never would have pegged the uptight Slayer as one for multiple orgasms, but here they were, with the delicious sent of her honey surrounding them.

The pressure in his groin was becoming demanding, and with a groan he lifted Buffy up and spun her around, bracing her against the door so he could thrust hard and fast. His sac drew up and pleasure crashed into him. Oh fuck, he was drowning in it. He grunted something akin to her name as he humped her frantically while unloaded into his jeans.

When his prick stopped pulsing, his muscles all gave out at once and he sagged backwards, ending up on the floor with Buffy a warm weight on top of him. She didn’t move, except to adjust herself slightly so she was comfortably snuggled against him. He nuzzled her cheek, memorizing the feel and scent of her.

It was far too soon that she shifted off him and stood. The loss of her body heat seemed sacrilegious, he could have spent hours cuddled with her. Spike paused. Wait, no. He was glad to see her go.

Bugger.

He pushed himself upright, becoming all too aware of the mess drying in his trousers. He didn’t even have the strength to be offended by it. Not when making it had been so much fun. So much…he shook his head.  

There were a lot of thoughts and emotions circling around in his noggin he didn’t want to examine.

“Um, I…I’ll see you later, alright?” Buffy said, darting a quick glance at him.  He cupped her cheek with a hand and her breathing hitched. Then she turned, hunching her shoulders and disappearing out his door.

Spike shut it tight behind her.

He had the feeling he’d gotten himself into something he couldn’t quite fathom.

It’d turned into something besides a dirty way to scratch an itch, or him having a bit of a laugh at the Slayer for wanting to rub herself on a vamp. He’d nearly touched heaven being in her arms.

Balls.

He was fucked.

Or not, because they’d had their clothes on.

Fine.

He was nearly fucked.

And he didn’t think he was ever going to be the same.

 


End file.
